Page 69 of The Breakaway

"Nope. I guess these walls are pretty thick." I invited her in, then escaped into my room.

I used the washroom first, noticing that Rob's toiletries now sat on the edge of the tub. I wondered what time he was leaving today. After washing my hands, I threw all of my toiletries in my waterproof case and grabbed my backpack and violin from behind the door. My suitcase was already out in the entryway.

Surprisingly, my makeup hadn't smeared during the night, so I didn't bother washing and reapplying, especially since my mom was already antsy. I paused and grabbed Logan’s bracelet from the shelf in the washroom. I slipped it in my pocket. I’d put it on in the car.

Mom stood next to the island when I reentered the room. "Have you had breakfast?" she asked. I shook my head, and her face brightened. "Perfect. I was thinking we could stop at a brunch place my friend recommended."

My stomach grumbled. "Sounds great." I grabbed my purse and moved to extend the handle on my suitcase. My mom took it for me out the door.

I probably should have cleaned out the fridge. Didn't even occur to me until right that second.

"Here. Just a second, Mom." I turned back, set down my violin and toiletry case, and rounded the island to grab a notepad and pen. I scrawled out a message to Rob:

Hope you have a good break.

I chewed my lower lip, the pen pausing above the paper. Words flooded my head.

You played amazing last night. I'm sorry about the loss. That call in the third period was bullshit. I'm sorry I fell asleep.

Finally, I wrote,

At least you'll have the washroom to yourself, but I'm sorry I didn't clean my food out of the fridge. Take whatever you want.

I set the pen down and turned back to the front door. He had my email. If he needed to get in contact.

My mom gave me a look like, "Are you finally ready?" I grabbed my bags and slapped a smile on my face, then followed her out to the car.

I immediately asked her about my dad, and she filled me in as we drove toward the highway. He was tired but recovering well. All of his numbers looked good. The way she was describing everything in such vague terms did not breed confidence that she actually knew what she was talking about.

When I asked her how she was holding up, she gave a small smile and launched into everything she was doing to prepare for Christmas. I started to zone out around cookie tin prices going up, and a shortage of cloves in our local grocery store. Then she said something that made my ears perk up.

"I hope you don't mind. We're going to have you in your old room instead of the guest bedroom."

I turned to look at her. "No. That's fine. Is there something wrong with it?"

Mom kept her eyes trained on the road. Both hands clamped on the wheel, and my heart started to race.

"No. Nothing wrong with it. We just needed to use it for our other guests."

My eyes narrowed. "You didn't tell me we were having other people over for Christmas."

She smiled a little too brightly. "Well, it was kind of a last-minute thing. I got a call from your aunt Rosemary last Wednesday."

Ice slid down my spine. "Aunt Rosemary is coming?"

"No." She waved me off. "This is something I don't want you telling anybody else, but you know Aunt Rosemary is getting divorced." I nodded.

"Well, it's getting nasty. She's not in a good place."

I frowned, trying to figure out how this had anything to do with extra guests at Christmas. I hadn't talked to my aunt Rosemary since I left the house, and I would have preferred if that vow of non contact would’ve occurred much earlier than that.

"Anyway, she wondered if we'd be able to have the kids at our house for Christmas."

My body went rigid. My mouth, dry. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Mom blew out a breath.

"It doesn't have to be a big deal. They're going to stay in the basement bedroom."

Not a big deal. My hands were shaking. I clasped them in my lap. The edges of my vision lighting up.

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